


The Lives of Wolves: Origins of Wolves

by Mrs_Fenris



Series: The Lives of Wolves [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:19:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8618770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Fenris/pseuds/Mrs_Fenris
Summary: A little piece about the beginnings of Fenris and Tala Hawke. Prequel to Making of A Pack





	1. Fenris

 

Burning agony ripped through him, like molten lead was being poured into his veins, like his flesh was being ripped from his bones. Fear gripped him, fear and agony In equal measure. He had no idea why he was here, no idea who he was or what he had done to deserve this. He feared it would never end.

'Kill me, please just kill me!' ~~~~ ~~~~

He screamed over and over only to be answered, each time, buy a rancorous laugh. His pain brought amusement. He screamed, begged and pleaded for help and death a like, but no one came. After what felt like an eternity, or ten, it ended. The hot sharp pain was replaced buy a dull throbbing pain. A man in a robe walked up to him.

“It's okay Fenris, It's all over now, get some rest my pet”

‘Fenris, is that what I am called, who I am?'

Fenris shook his head, which was a bad idea, it sent lightning from down his chin to the tops of his feet. The man placed a hand on his head and wove his fingers, gently, through his hair.

“Be still, Fenris. You need to heal, I am your master. Do you understand my pet?”

His throat was raw and hurt, but he answered. “Y-yes, Master.”

Master smiled at him. “That's a good boy, such a smart lad.”

His master turned and spoke to a small elf. “Go make sure his room is prepared, bring him food and water.”

Fenris was taken to a different room, far away from the other. It hurts to walk, and move, but Master is so nice he doesn't complain. The new room had a bed and a high small window. There was food and a water. He ate ravenously after downing the entire gallon of water.

His master chuckled. “Bring more food and water, a nice hot bath and clean clothes.”

“Yes, Master.” The small elven man said as he left to do a he was bid.

“Now, my pet, you must rest for your training starts tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master.” 'Master is so kind, I hope I never leave him.'

Two years later

Master requested he be cleaned and deposited in his chambers. Fenris knew what that meant, it had happened too many times to pretend otherwise. This was the thing he hated most, and Master knew it, whenever Fenris got that dead look in his eyes that begged him to stop Master just laughed.

Three years later

Fenris stood by the door as Danarius bled the slave boy. His markings gave an unpleasant hum in response to the blood magic. His face was a stone, but inside, he wanted to rip the boy off the table and shield him from Danarius.

'Magic, disgusting magic. Without It that boy would live, and I wouldn't have these filthy markings.'

One year later

Fenris obeyed his master one last time, and In so doing, he betrayed the only ones who were ever kind to him. Fenris Is running through the foggy jungles of Seheron. He runs from the men and women he betrayed, and the strange pity in their eyes. Fenris doesn't want pity, especially not from them, so he runs and doesn't look back.

One year later

He woke In a cold sweat, dagger clenched, his hand under the makeshift pillow. He dreamed of them again, The Fog Warriors, it was so vivid he could feel their blood on his skin. The night of the ambush was drawing near, and he had increasing dreams of them.

“It doesn't make sense, why dream of them, they have nothing to do with this! I just want to sleep one night……. Nothing to do about It now. Hmm, perhaps I should go over the plan again?”

‘Anso is to send the mercenaries to the house in the Alienage. The mercenaries trigger the trap by entering the house, and hopefully they will be good enough too deal with the hunters inside, perhaps even help with the ones outside. Bah! I can't count on such frivolous hopes. It's far more likely that they will be of little use, aside for bait. Their deaths are  regrettable, but they are in a dangerous business.'

The thought soothes Fenris little, feeling mixed about sending someone to their grave on a lie.

'If only I could have help I could trust, and whom were skilled enough to be of use. Back to the plan, focus! While the first wave of hunters are distracted I will deal with the second lying in wait. This could get messy, if the first group Is not thoroughly distracted they may come to aid the next, but I have no choice. Danarius should have accompanied them.'

Fenris began to shake at the thought, he broke out in a cold sweat, and he found himself terrified at the thought. He wanted him dead, but a part of him wanted to go back, to end this feeble attempt, and return to Danarius’s welcoming arms. Fenris picked up his sword and started hacking away at the crates that surrounded him. He would not do that, never would he return to slavery, he would rather die. When will these thoughts leave him!

 


	2. Tala Hawke

Leandra watched her husband dress, never asking about the scars that littered his back. She rubbed her swollen middle where their child lay.

“Malcolm, have you thought of any names?”

Her husband chuckled, and Maker, they ended up with child last time he did that.

“No, amatus, I have not.” Malcolm pushed lock of hair behind his pointed ears.

“Well, if it's a girl, I heard an elven name I liked.”

“Let's hear this name, then.” Malcolm smiled

“I was thinking, if it’s a girl mind you, how do you like 'Tala'?”

Malcolm raised his eyebrow at her. “’If it's a girl’, doubting my abilities?”

“I'm not, no Malcolm, I just don't know how a girl would fair with me. With my luck I'll become my mother.”

Malcolm walked over and placed one hand on his wife's swollen middle and the other on her cheek.

“Your mother loves you, and you will be a excellent mother. Tala, hmm? It means little wolf, fitting. Wolves spend their whole lives in family packs, moving around. I like it, but if she starts chewing on raw meat, I'm blaming you.” Leandra laughed.

Two years later

Leandra was pregnant again, this time with twins. She watched her husband and daughter playing In the yard. She saw a wolf pup approach the tree line and smiled at remembered words. The panic set in as she saw her husband chase a black wolf pup.

“Malcolm! What's going on? Put that animal down!”

Malcolm laughed as he hoisted the squirming pup into his arms. “But, amatus, this is our animal!”

“What?” she watched as the squirming mass of fur turned Into her little girl.

“Now, I did say If she took after wolves it was your doing.” Malcolm smiled to let her know It was a joke.

Four years later

Tala is playing with her little sister, brother and some village kids. A boy named Ronnie was picking on Beth when his shirt suddenly caught fire. Tala quelled the fire, and immediately healed the minor burns, just like her daddy taught her. As soon as that was done she dragged Bethany and Carver home, and told their father. They left that night. They kept moving, never staying in one village for more than a few months, for four years they lived like this. Until they were sure no Templars were tracking them, and the girls had learned ample control over their abilities.

Ten years later

Tala has a small black tattoo of a wolf on her left hip, and black wings on her back to cover the scars of her past. Her father's brilliant golden eyes, not to mention his magical capabilities, and a strange ability to change Into a wolf. She was quite a convincing wolf what with her enhanced sight, smell, and hearing. Retaining them even In her human form, Tala made a remarkable rogue. She was able to move faster and quieter than the average human, and react quicker, with better sight for traps and ear for locks. Tala never used her magic to kill, 'Magic Is a tool not a weapon, and should be treated as such.', her father used to tell her and she lived buy It. Her favorite use of magic was healing, something she was a natural at, and using it to help grow crops and make her herbs give a better quality for her potions and poultices. She enjoys running with her faithful mabari, Wolf, so named because that’s the form she was in when he chose her.

Tala and Caver went to Ostagar to defend their home. It was a mess, they managed to stay next to each other during the last battle, but when she saw Loghain’s retreat and the might of the hoard she knew that lest they return to Lothering now, they would surely fall. They returned home with the Darkspawn on their heels, and the breath stolen from their lungs. Mother sulked, Bethany worried and Caver groused when the decision to leave home behind was made.

The Ogre came and Tala faltered, at the sight and smell of this giant beast, her mistake had cost her, Caver lie dead on the ground. Mother’s blame ringed in her ears, 'Why didn't you do something, how could you let him charge off like that! My little boy, your little brother!', piercing her like a blade. When the time came she killed Wesley, not wanting Aveline to take on the guilt of putting her own husband to the blade. Just before though she used a bliss spell on Wesley, a unique version of a reversed horror spell her and Father created. Wesley’s happiest memories visited his mind before she pushed the blade in, to which he said 'Thank you.' and smiled. When she met Flemeth she was intrigued, never had she met another shapeshifter, let alone one that could turn into a dragon. She asked the shapeshifter to teach her, everyone assumed it was a joke. She thought of it all the way to Kirkwall.

Tala and Bethany had a job, smuggling, but it would give them passage into the city and a means to survive. For a year anyway.


End file.
